2014.03.05 - Spargazing
The Community Health and Recreation Center is one of many charity community centers operated and funded by the Wayne Foundation. Offering everything from swimming lessons and cooking classes, basketball leagues to bingo, it's a place for locals to escape the hard streets of Gotham for something resembling wholesome fun (and gives a lot of young people something to do other than hang out on street corners). Shang-Chi has recently begun teaching several classes a week, the fees minimal and often waived for those unable to afford them. He has Tai Chi for seniors, a yoga class largely populated by middle aged mothers and this class, a basic kung fu instruction course from all walks of life. The class is diverse, from a young Latina mother looking to protect her young children in a hard neighborhood to the older man trying to get back in shape after an accident hurt his back. Several young men sport tattoos or scars, "at risk" youth sent here as part of community rehabilitation. Shang has earned their respect with his patience and respect for them, showing no sign of looking down or patronizing them for their misdeeds or background. At the moment, he's standing in front of the class, demonstrating a simple stance. "Breathing is everything. As you settle into the position, you must breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Become aware of the way it fills your lungs. As you become aware of your breathing, so, too, shall you become aware of yourself. It is this attention which allows us to do things properly and with the fullness of our being." The room dedicated for the kung-fu class was a lovely hall, with a centralized, clean interior. There were scattered mirrors, and mats, here and there, as well as a few small benches. Lurking in the farthest corner on one of these benches was a somewhat suspicious looking woman, who'd chosen to sit close enough to watch the class, but far enough away to communicate her non-participation. She wore a gorgeous scarf over her neck and head, covering herself almost entirely. The presentation would've almost looked like a Burqa, if not for the modern, pseudo-Chinese, floral pattern on it. Shang-Chi allows the young woman her privacy, not pushing her or calling attention to her. He recognizes the artisanship in her scarf. As the class begins to imitate his stance, Shang-Chi moves amongst them, offering slight adjustments or encouragement. He's never critical or firm, merely straightforward and gentle. His hands move them with precision, like an stop-motion animator guiding his puppets into the perfect position, frame by frame. After directing them to incorporate a few recently learned motions into the stance, he takes a moment as he finds himself standing next to the young woman, knowing the others are distracted so he pitches his voice low. "Can I be of service to you, miss?" he says gently. The woman stands up with Shang-Chi's question as a motion of respect. She also speaks in a low tone, friendly. "The palace of your spirit is the tools you're sharing," she comments, "Share more of this." Her cryptic phrase is punctuated by her extending out her hand from under the draping scarf, revealing a... green hand. Her black finger nailed index finger points at Shang-Chi, points at his chest. A careful look into Mantis' eyes reveals more green skin in her face, still ever-so-slightly peeking from behind her scarfed disguise. "These students have the skills of a clown, yet you inspire them." Shang-Chi shows no reaction to the green hand or skin, both inner serenity and long experience showing him that people come in all shapes and sizes, more of them every day. What difference, after all, between green skin and brown, between pink and gold? None that he's ever seen. Used to zen koans and odd phrasing, he takes the words in that same spirit, "We may only share that which we have built. That which is taken was never ours to begin with," he says, then looks back at his students, "Do not underestimate the skill of a clown. It is a good way to end up with a pie in the face," he says with a slight smile. The woman laughs at this, and responds, "Textbooks are textless, in this city. This cover is judged, and I've no want for rejection. While shock is keen, it makes for a coldness." She holds the thought in long one second silence, as her words trail off into a sad tone. One of the students, an older Russian man in his late 50s, who has a long, semi-unkempt beard, shouts out: "We ain't gonna judge ya, lady!" -- he seems to be interrupting with his random encouragement. "It's just a the Wayne CHRC, for god sakes!" He says with a little chuckle, "It ain't church or a driver's test." Mantis looks over to the man: nobody could see the smirk on her face, and she realized that. So, she started pulling at the scarf, slowly sliding it off from behind her, like a hood. What was revealed was a green-skinned, antenna-clad, lovely young Vietnamese woman. She removed her long jacket and was wearing a flowing, white outfit under it: tight, off-white spandex pants, and a loose, grey blouse. She instinctively dropped a foot lower, moving into a martial arts stance. The stance looked like a cross between Aikido and Judo. Either this was something obscure, or she'd modified it, somehow. Shang-Chi nods in response to the gesture, again showing not the least flicker of concern at her unusual appearance. He cocks his head at the stance, analysing, "Very good. Your skills seem quite refined," he says, able to read her level of ability even from that simple motion. It's fluidity, the firmness of her muscles, the ease and rapidity in which she settled into it, the amount of concentration it required, all tell him as much as if she'd given him a resume of training. "As Dmitri says, we are open to all here. It is one of the terms of being a student. I will brook no prejudice here. You fill find only warmth here. We keep the wolf of winter at bay." Mantis smiles earnestly with the offer, and turns to the random Russian student who called out to him. "Graceful, unexpected." Turning back to Shang-Chi, she says, "Apologies for the slow-down," and begins moving into the ranks of his class, to join them. "A mixed canvas, I am... many disciplines have shared with me their paint." One woman in the class stares at her suspiciously, but keeps it subtle enough that Mantis doesn't notice. Mantis joins the group, and takes a neutral expression, almost as if she didn't want to be noticed. But, of course, she still was... several other students struggled to stay focused on the class. Shang-Chi gently corrects the distracted, bringing their eyes back to him, "Tapestries are, by necessity, of many hues. That is where their beauty lies. To exclude one means to exclude all, for you rob yourself of the wisdom and beauty offered," he says. He returns to teaching, guiding the class through some simple punches and blocks, moving them through swiftly and expertly, the students soon losing themselves in the slightly increased pace, Shang-Chi forcing their concentration away from the newcomer and towards their lessons. Finally, he smiles, "Now...break into your pairs for some light sparring. Fifteen minutes and then we will do our cool down meditation," he smiles. As the class pairs off, he bows to Mantis, "Since you are new, you do not have an established partner. So, I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me." Mantis turns her head, a coy grin already planted on it. She gives a tilt of her head, and suddenly drops into a new stance, this one was pure Judo, her arms looking like a crooked 'W'. "The metered measurements of contests were but the first decade of my existence--" she said, giving Shang-Chi a sporting moment to prepare himself. With a freakish speed, Mantis dropped low, and twisted herself around on the floor, almost like a monkey might, and was soon positioned behind Shang-Chi, her foot tapping gently against the inner-part of his knee. She wasn't hitting him, of course, merely pointing out a spot where she would've attempted to fall him. She was showing off. "--Forgiveness and acceptance was a learned lesson from alien dictates," Mantis continues, holding herself up in a strange pose, with an elbow and one leg. It was some sort of ridiculous, defensive stance. "Sapience, family compassion has its own unique dance," she concluded, "It's something hard to learn. Their spite, my nest." Shang-Chi allows Mantis to move as she pleases, taking the opportunity to get a firmer look at her stance, her motion. He feels the light tap on the inside of his knee and smiles gently, "Compassion is the most important lesson of all, regardless of its origins," he says. When his body bursts into motion, it, too, has blinding speed, but it somehow seems effortless, his body fluidly spinning and rolling, a series of light, tapping blows just raining at Mantis' ribs, nothing rough or painful, just light taps, as if returning the lesson with a few taps of his own. Mantis stifles a little chuckle at rib taps; it'd been over a year since she'd had a skilled sparring partner, and does a quick backflip-roll, an effort to gain herself a few feet of distance. She lands onto one foot, which then she uses to bounce into a turn, ending in a quick, pointed-toe roundhouse kick. The kick itself was a fake-out, and Mantis used Shang-Chi's response to it as a moment to sail downward again. Her left foot stomping onto the ground next to his foot--ever-so-slightly holding it into position, while her right foot glided across the mat to nudge his other foot. Mantis's right food danced back and forth, showing-off a kind of nimbleness, somehow keeping Shang-Chi's foot held there, like she were dribbling a soccer ball. It seemed like much of her style, at least what she's shown so far, was a series of disabling and balance off-centric moves. "Set the rules, and own the dance," Mantis chirped. Shang-Chi allows the rhythm on his foot to play, penduluming him back and forth until he turns into the rotation into a series of sweeping, spinning kicks, switching between high and low to keep Mantis leaping and ducking in turn, backing her up as he moves along the training floor. Many of the students have stopped their sparring to just watch the two warriors at play, Shang-Chi ducking a teased kick from Mantis, even as she flicks away from a punch of his, both of them back-flipping simultaneously to switch sides and end up facing each other in full stance, generating spontaneous applause from the observers. With sudden awareness of the students attention on them, Mantis pulled her stance back into a natural standing position, and her cheeks blushed. She wasn't used to an audience: especially not a positive one. She gave a subtle, quick bow of her head, and said to the students, "I've not the privy nor the nerve to defeat a teacher in front of his own students!" she said with a smirk. In truth, she was completely impressed, and had become very curious: Shang-Chi's style was far beyond style mastery, or rote training: it indicated a tremendous amount of real combat. This was a man who'd been through some things. She decided to take the chance to attempt to slightly surprise him, and suddenly spoke to him telepathically, in his head. |"My presence has been a disturbance here."| Shang-Chi is surprised, although he doesn't let it show on his face, his expression stilled and disciplined even as he hears the thoughts in his head. |"A pebble in the water creates ripples, but the waters will still in due time. I meant what I said: all are welcome here."| he thinks simply. His mind, what can be seen of it, is extraordinary, deeply organized and layered, perhaps one of the neatest minds Mantis has ever encountered. "Defeat is all a matter of perspective," he says simply to the others. "If you have tried your best, you can never truly be defeated." Mantis slinks back into class, finding a little spot within the students again, silently nodding her head. Intrigued by the martial arts master, quietly tucked in the middle of Gotham, she had already decided to see the rest of the class through. |"The woodwork, it reveals surprises most curious. To find a peace pioneer."| She smiles, casting a knowing look amidst the 'secret' telepathic comments. She kept the comments minimal, however, for the rest of the lesson. Mantis, far more familiar with cultivating flora, had decided to water her first human friendship in a long time. Shang-Chi gets the students in for a final cool down meditation, everyone slipping down and folding their legs into lotus position (or their best attempt at same). He breathes deeply as he guides them through and into their deeper consciousness, emphasizing humility, awareness, attentiveness and compassion, for self and others. He isn't sure what to make of the strange, alien presence of this new student, but trusts that, in time, all will make sense. The most important thing to do is to remember that all things are temporary and nothing set in stone. Water flows and moves on in and endless circle, like all existence, and there's no sense trying to hold on to the past or reach towards the future. There is only the now. And if this now includes strange green-skinned antennaed women...well, so be it. Category:Log